


The Linguist

by AJ_Writes_Nooks



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canon Universe, Complicated Relationships, Drama, F/M, Family, First Kiss, Firsts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love, Parenthood, Romance, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJ_Writes_Nooks/pseuds/AJ_Writes_Nooks
Summary: Vanta Black, a long ago descendant from the planet Dathomir, has fallen into league with all types in her career as a linguist. Second only to the vast database of protocol droids, Vanta has kept herself well-off with commissions for translations.On a vacation to Dontu Bight, she crosses paths with a clueless but ruthless Mandalorian who seems to speak just Basic and Huttesse, but then only if forced to speak at all. Agreeing to translate for half the bounty of a traveling Gungan murderess, Vanta does her best to do what she does best.Mysteriously drawn to a passenger on the Mandalorian's ship, Vanta realizes her heritage to Dathomir might be more than she thought, and this curious bounty hunter just might be the only thing keeping her alive.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. The Stranger

**Welcome to The Linguist! I hope you enjoy this work and comment all your awesome thoughts.**

The Mandalorian’s footsteps set most of the diner on edge as he approached the order counter. The patrons weren’t exactly wanted people, but when a bounty hunter was around, who knew if their ancestors skipping on taxes had finally caught up to them? “I’m looking for someone.”

 _So this was the owner of that Razor Crest._ No surprise there. The whole town was chattering about it.

His accent was familiar, though hard to trace back. If he was from Mandalore, he hadn’t spent much time there as a child, or else his accent would have developed.

“A Gungan female,” he added.

“y’Onosque dgare,” the clerk squawked. A native Nbdi, then, thought he didn’t exactly have the build of normal males in the species.

“You speak…Basic?” the Mandalorian asked, already at the end of his rope. Did he really expect a native diner on Dontu Bight had an owner who spoke Basic?

Luckily for him, I wasn’t a native like the rest of these skod-huffers were.

I stood, bill in hand, and approached the counter. “y’Fesin klas ndali.”

The clerk gave a tube-y smile and took my bill, carrying my pay into the back room to make change.

“He said he doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my eyes on the clerk rustling around in the other room. Maybe I was free and clear of bounties, but Mandalorians weren’t exactly reputed as being nice to people who butted in.

“I didn’t ask.”

I nodded. “I’m so used to translating, sometimes I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

“You should try it sometime,” he said.

Deciding not to get my face broken by a hand of beskar armor, I held my tongue.

The clerk came back, tubes floating around his neck as he handed the change to me. The poor male was terrified, and probably more so now because he’d heard us talking.

“y’Feri dlans,” I said. _Don’t worry, he’s not here for you._

The Nbdian gave another squawk of nervousness and went into the dining area carrying a pitcher of grey liquid. Glad to get away, he didn’t even bid me a good afternoon like usual.

“So you’re a translator?” he asked, but not in a chatting sort of way. He was figuring me out, and my mind was sending its usual message about not letting my learned tongue get me in trouble.

It had before.

“I said. Why?” I turned partially, but I didn’t face him. My mind wouldn’t let me engage beyond terse chatter.

He set a thick disk on the counter and it lit up. A puck of some sort, maybe a tracker. It showed a pretty Gungan female, skin dyed with strips of orange, and a body count number displayed above her head. “Twenty-three killed,” he stated, as if it was common, “including a representative’s daughter from Naboo. I’ll give you half the bounty if you help me find her.”

I had to ignore the urge of asking why he wanted to find the dead daughter, but he didn’t seem like someone who wanted to hear a joke, though he’d set himself up by playing the pronoun game.

Noting the name on the puck, I practiced it in my head until I was sure I got the Gungan pronunciation correct. “Okay. I’ll ask around. I’ll meet you at your ship in two hours.”

“How do you know…where my ship is?” He cocked his head, and I could just see all the ways he could kill me on the spot.

I shrugged to cover up a shiver, stepping back just enough so his fist was just out of range of my face. “Only two kinds of people fly pre-empire ships, and we don’t have the other kind here.”

.

Whoever this Len Yi Husa was, Dontu Bight wasn’t looking ready to talk about her. I trusted enough of the people I’d asked truly hadn’t heard of her, but several were hiding her whereabouts.

The two hours were almost up when I came across a tiny vendor selling other-system trinkets. She’d heard I was asking around and whispered a quick two words before turning back to her wares.

.

The landing pad was empty save for the Razor Crest hulking over the space. It was smaller than the town whispers had made it sound, but then I was taller than most of the natives.

Trying not to infringe on the landing pad’s space, I waited in the next slot over for the pilot. Wherever he was, it didn’t look like he was at the ship. I checked my timepiece and found it wasn’t running, typical from a lot of back-and-forth lightspeed travel.

Something rustled near a stack of supply boxes set off to the side of the Crest’s loading bay. It was shut, but whatever was moving didn’t look intent on breaking into the ship.

I snuck closer, nervous it was one of the night beasts the locals liked to chat about, the ones that bit your legs off when your back was turned. A few steps closer, I could hear a breathy cooing coming from whatever it was.

With both feet ready to bolt, I leaned over the nearest crate and got a glimpse of the oddest creature I’d ever seen. Green, large ears, surrounded and covered in a pile of what looked like molasses that it had poured from one of the supply camtonos.

It turned to look at me, and my stomach turned. It wasn’t bad, but more like I’d heard noise for the first time since birth. I blinked, and so did it. It cocked its head like nothing was different and spooned another handful of molasses into its mouth.

I took a full step back. _What_ was _this thing?_

“Kid!” A dampened voice came crashing into my world like I’d never heard speech before.

Panicking, I tested twenty languages to make sure I hadn’t forgotten my one strong skill. I hadn’t, but whatever that creature was, I had to blink several times to make sure I was actually present.

The Mandalorian picked it up with as few fingers as possible, eyeing the drippy mess of a pet he had on his hands. “What happened?”

“I…I don’t know!” I felt like I couldn’t breathe a second’s worth of air and could suck in the whole of space’s oxygen both at once. “What _is_ that?”

He turned to give me a glance, likely a glance sizing me up to see if I could in any way use information he gave to damage him down the line. “My…son.”

My mouth dropped open. So he was hiding adult-sized green creature ears beneath that helmet? And what about the hairy head? The two small teeth?

“Sorry,” I managed. “I-it looked at me, and-and I don’t know.”

The Mandalorian looked down at the creature, then back at me. “He does that sometimes. Stay here.” He opened the loading ramp and took his _son_ inside, muttering, “Not on the strangers, kid.”


	2. The Guide

“Step in,” he said. “I’ll be a minute.”

If not for the wide-open loading bay door, I’d have been nervous to follow him. As it was, the Dontu Bight suns lit up the near-empty space and didn’t leave a shadow behind.

“A vendor gave me a tip about Len Yi. She mentioned Sarlacc Lake. If you’ve been to hell, this place is worse.”

“I’ve been to Tattooine.” He bedded the baby in a sleeping cubby tucked in the back of the ship, then shut the door on it. How it got out in the first place was an uncomfortable mystery, but by the way the Mandalorian treated the situation, this wasn’t the first time. “I can handle a lake.”

“I’m not sure you fully understand. This lake used to be a Sarlacc pit. Sarlaccs attract colo claw slugs, then they grow in the water. The second they figure out you’re there, you’ll already be dead meat.”

“The Crest’s guns can handle some slugs.”

I brushed my hands down my arms, still trying to work off the feeling from earlier. It was going away, but when I took a breath, I could still feel every particle of air going in, then out. “You can’t fly there. And you damn sure can’t use non-manual weaponry.”

He sighed, helmet dropping a few inches, then twisting toward me in that observant, dangerous look. I could imagine big eyes like the baby had, staring me down through that black visor and picking out my strengths and weaknesses, maybe seeing a hundred versions of me depending on how that species took in sight.

“Then what _can_ you do?”

“Walk.” I crossed my arms, trying to hide something-anything-about myself. “It’s three days, hard and sleepless, but you look like you’ve done worse.”

His voice came out bland, thankless, when he said, “I have.”

“Then we’re set. I know a guide. Doesn’t speak Basic, but I can handle that. We need tractionless suits, too.”

In general, there was no way in hell or Tattooine I’d be going near a wet Sarlacc pit, but this commission intrigued me, and the little green guy did, too.

Sparing a glance at the closed sleep cubby, I reaffirmed that I was definitely going. I knew language upon language, quirks of dialects and accents, but whatever ‘not on the strangers’ had meant and what the baby had done was like a tongue I had no idea how to pronounce. It shook me, left me unsure of myself where it shouldn’t have.

“I’m not going to babysit you. I already have one kid.”

Pulling out my communication fob, I synced it to the nearest network, which had to have been the Razor Crest’s ancient communication’s array. “You don’t need to. But you do need a tractionless suit. Anything porous will get you killed once we pass Dontu’s tamed borders.”

“The armor stays on me.”

“Look, if you die, I don’t get my half. I’m not doing this to embarrass you. I’m sure the armor means a lot to you, but not if you’re dead.”

“Get one for the kid. And you.”

 _Maybe he_ had _been through hell. And he was taking his son?_

I forced myself to shut up like he’d suggested. If he wanted to be responsible for a death, it wasn’t going to be mine.

“The guide’s price is steep,” I noted, sliding the communicator back into my pocket. He’d be able to contact me if he wanted, but it was just a one-way system thanks to how old Razor Crests were. It was smart in plenty of ways to stay off the grid, but just as troubling in others.

“I can pay, but only if they come today.”

“Maybe. I’ll get the suits and check.”

The Mandalorian set a hand on the ladder rungs up to what should have been the cockpit. “If they can’t, I still leave at dusk.”

“You can’t-”

His metallic groan cut me off. “I’m bringing Husa in, warm or cold. You can help me, or you can leave.”

I wanted answers. About the baby. About what I’d felt when he’d looked at me. About _why_ it felt like there was an entire language I knew, yet didn’t remember. The feeling was entirely gone now, but behind that sleeping cubby lie the answer, and I wasn’t about to forgo learning a new language.

“I’ll meet you at dusk.”

He gave me an odd look, as odd as a helmet could be.

“With or without the guide.”


	3. The Beginning

“He’s willing to pay for you to come right now. He’s leaving at dusk, and if he dies, you won’t get anything. I have the map, but you know the terrain.” Droidspeak was a tricky language to learn, but I’d learned its every quirk years ago. It served me well now, but not well enough as the guide shook his head.

Something about Mandalore and droids came out, but it wasn’t helpful at all.

“Look, you can just charge it to my account. Vanta Black. Take as much as it’s worth, but-”

The droid gave a final no, complete with a rude gesture, then switched off to deter further begging on my part. Or just to make sure he didn’t have to _hear_ said bickering.

“You stupid, _stupid_ droid!” I growled in Basic, then repeated it in Droidspeak just in case he was recording while being shut off.

The antitraction suits kept creaking in their protective case, leading to an aggravating half-silence as I waited a minute more in front of the unresponsive droid, hoping maybe, somehow, he’s switch himself back on and agree to keep _me_ alive. If not keeping the baby and the Mandalorian-who seemed to have a perpetual death wish yet an insane amount of luck-alive as well.

The guide didn’t seem to want to keep _anyone_ alive today, so I walked out, tractionless suit case screaking at my side.

Fortunately for the little guy, the suits shrunk to fit the wearer thanks to bio-tech imbedded in the material. No thanks to the Mandalorian, the baby would be coming along in the first place.

Canto Bight was a beautiful place to settle, complete with clean streams and non-aggressive creatures inhabiting the forests, but nobody seemed to remember than Dontu Bight, its larger, more formidable twin, was not where the star system’s biggest casino had been built.

And there was a very good reason as to why.

It wasn’t a long walk to the landing platform, but from the moment I could see the Razor Crest’s worn sides above the town buildings, I took the minutes of walking there to consider just what I was doing.

I didn’t know this bounty hunter, and I didn’t exactly need the money-though I could never have too much-and I’d agreed to do this entirely too fast. The baby was the only thing keeping me tethered there, though even then, I wasn’t sure if it was worth it. Usually I’d have been so careful, but my sense of self was still screwed thanks to the little guy’s tampering, whatever it was.

As it went, I showed back up at the Razor Crest’s loading bay, now full of the cargo that’d been on the landing pad when I’d left. The Mandalorian worked quickly, that was for sure.

Like before, he left me waiting just long enough to make me uncomfortable, then showed up with both pistol and phase rifle strapped over his armor, looking recently used…

I swallowed. _He’s not gonna kill me._ I wasn’t worth anything dead, and Mandalorians didn’t waste their ammo, or so I’d heard.

“I brought-” I squeaked out, then cleared my throat. “The suits, but no guide.”

“Just as well. Did he say anything?”

“Something about your kind and droids?” I set the case down. He wasn’t one for small talk, and seemed to draw conclusions from the least amount of information. A good trait, maybe, or a deadly one.

He sighed. “Of course. A guide droid.”

“Dontu Bight isn’t kind to anyone, even those like you.”

“I don’t need kindness. I need the bounty.” He strode up the loading ramp, then settled his rifle against a holding slot on the ship’s wall. I followed him up, boots striking dully on the metal.

“I guess I can’t convince you to wait her out.”

“You don’t wait Gungans out of water. It’s a part of their religion.” He looked at the sleeping cubby. “I would know.”

_So he was a Gungan?_

I gave the back of his helmet a confused glance, then pulled the case open and tossed the baby’s suit at his back. He didn’t catch it, but rather turned and scooped it off the ground in a single, fluid motion.

“Get dressed.”

He opened the sleep cubby and climbed in, then shut it before I could ask where exactly I was supposed to change, and if I was supposed to just stand here for another hour until dusk began.

I slid the suit over my clothes and it shrunk to fit, clinging to the cloth and covering every bit of my body. Colo claw slugs could chew through the suit in short order, but other poisons and biting plants on the way to Sarlacc Lake wouldn’t.

Pulling the display on my sleeve up, I studied the map of Dontu Bight’s wild outer borders and the lake three day’s walk. It’d be easy for someone to find a place to hide, but getting back out would be tricky, even for a Gungan. Whoever this woman was, she’d have had just as hard of a time getting to the lake as well would, so it was safe to assume she wanted to stick around for a while.

A good thing for me, because the Mandalorian didn’t seem to take kindly to missing his bounties.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment or Kudos to let me know! I feed off your enjoyment, so please let me nom on it once in a while. ^,^  
> Also! Don't forget to leave theories down in the comments! Those are like dessert.


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